


I want to be Steve Rogers

by Valmasy



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1536080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valmasy/pseuds/Valmasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve needs a makeover...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I want to be Steve Rogers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cloudyjenn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudyjenn/gifts).



> So cloudyjenn and I were discussing why Steve’s hair was less blond than before. This fic below is the sad, sad result.

"I need a…a makeover."

Those were the words that assaulted Tony’s pre-coffee-in-the-morning ears. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, listening to the coffee pot percolate. God, why was it taking so long this time? He just wanted one cup. Just one. Was that so much to ask for?

And then maybe another cup. He snorted to himself. Who was he kidding? He was just going to take the pot and spirit it away downstairs to his lab an-

"Mr. Sta-Tony? Did, um…did you hear me?"

Tony startled, hip-checking the counter with a grunt as morning-glow Captain Steve Rogers looked at him in concern, one golden eyebrow raised slightly.

"Jesus, we need to put a bell around your neck, Cap," Tony braced a hand on the counter, rubbing at his hip with the other. "You can’t sneak up on people so early in the morning. I’m too old for that shit."

"It’s 1:30 in the afternoon," Steve responded dryly. "Look, I know you’re a busy man, Mr. Stark, but I’ve talked to the rest of the team and they agreed you’d be the best one to…spiff up my image."

"Spiff up your image," Tony repeated. "You’re wearing buttoned-to-the-collar checkered shirts and dockers. I think that’s the epitome of spiffy, Cap. And still with this ‘Mr. Stark’ shit? Did you call Howard that too?"

Steve shifted uncomfortably and Tony sighed.

"Right. Forgot. He’s off limits for you," the engineer scoffed, finally, _finally_ putting coffee in his mug. “Not quite awake yet.”

"He doesn't… If you’d like to talk about your d-" Steve started but was cut off as Tony put a hand up to stop him.

"What do you want to make spiffier?" Tony asked, sipping his coffee.

"I just think it’s time for a change," Steve said, cheeks heating slightly. "I think I might be…a little too clean-cut."

Tony stared at Steve over the rim of his mug and then snorted.

"Isn’t that kind of Captain America’s shtick?" he asked the blond. "All-American, clean-cut, Crest smile?"

"Crest?" Steve echoed, tiny furrow in his brow. "Yes, it’s…it’s _his_ image, but it’s not mine, Tony.” 

Tony watched Steve’s jaw clench and his expression cloud for a moment. He wondered about that, but then the blond was glancing back to him, face clearing.

"I want an image for myself, Tony," Steve said with determination. "I don’t just want to be Captain America. I want to be Steve Rogers."

~~

_"I want to be Steve Rogers."_

Tony would blame those words for what happened afterwards and was currently still happening.

The engineer was barely even in the chair anymore, sprawled out over the arms with a Stark pad held above his face as he did some work. Actually, as he tried to do some work, but it was difficult when Steve was in the stylist’s chair and complaining about the color of his hair.

"It’s not that I don’t like it, ma’am," the Captain was saying. "I just don’t understand why we would dye it darker just to put…what did you call them?"

"Highlights," the woman replied, amused.

"Those. Why dye it darker just to make it lighter?" Steve asked as he turned his head this way and that to see the differences.

"Let the woman do her job, honey," Tony said absently. "That’s what I’m paying her for."

The woman chuckled and Tony missed the red of Steve’s face as he ducked his head.

"That’s okay, Mr. Stark," she said. "He’s all done. And trust me, handsome, you look gorgeous. Please don’t go anywhere else. Always come back here. Right here. Just me."

"Um, okay…? That should be fine, I think," Steve was still blushing as the stylist took the cape off and brushed off the back of his neck. He stood and thanked her before stepping over to Tony. "Are you ready for the clothes?"

"God no," Tony murmured absently as he right himself in the chair and finally looked up at Steve. He blinked and then blinked again. "but…might as well get it over with, yeah?"

Steve felt himself flush again for no apparent reason and he cleared his throat as Tony paid.

"We can fix your hair in a different salon," Tony said after they’d left, smirking.

"I didn't want to hurt her feelings," Steve replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Believe me, Cap," Tony chuckled. "She’d have been fine."

~~

_"Honey."_

Steve would blame that word out of Tony’s mouth for what happened.

Actually, he would blame a lot of things if that was really his style.

A distracted Tony was a dangerous Tony.

Absently-said endearments.

Casual brushes of his calloused fingers.

Maddening, innocent touches that had begun to drive Steve crazy. He felt hyper-aware of them all the time now. Wondering when Tony’s distracted hand would wander up against his arm, his thigh. Even just a pat on the head once or twice when Tony had been pacing behind the couch muttering about a project.

But those situations had only ever been when they were in Tony’s Avengers tower. Granted, he and Tony never went out anywhere together if it wasn't for a mission, but even in the field, Iron Man wasn't a handsy teammate.

Steve shook himself a little out of his reverie and finished pulling on the dark slacks and a dark coat from a designer he couldn't pronounce. He braced a hand beside his reflection in the dressing room’s mirror. Well, he’d said spiffy. Suits were spiffy, he guessed. He glanced over his shoulder at the folded pair of designer jeans and decided to try them on instead.

"Okay, Tony," he called, belting the jeans and adjusting the tank beneath the fancy coat. There. Definitely a different image. He could work with this. "Last one."

Only ever in the tower.

So he was caught completely off guard when, after only staring at Steve for a moment and muttering something to himself, Tony’s mouth was against his and the dressing room door banged into the wall behind it. Steve stumbled in shock, mouth a slow burn where Tony’s dragged against it. The engineer caught the door with a foot, swinging it shut with another bang, and slid his hands right into Steve’s new haircut.

Steve groaned as Tony tugged at the highlighted spikes, messing them up with nimble fingers, and pushed Tony back against the now-closed door, sweeping his tongue out along Tony’s lips to encourage them to part beneath the kiss. Tony raked one hand down through Steve’s hair to cup his neck, moaning low in his throat.

"Captain America shouldn't kiss like this," Tony breathed, pressing the words to the corner of the captain’s mouth.

"Steve Rogers does," Steve laughed, cheeks faintly red and hair mussed, and Tony couldn’t help but pull Steve’s mouth back to his own.

He could work with that.


End file.
